


One Hot Day In Vietnam

by Not_You



Series: Masks And Other Stuff [8]
Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Begging, Bloodplay, Bondage, Crying During Sex, Knifeplay, M/M, Marking, Orgasm Delay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10796226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: This occurs when these two are about thirty.  I assume Adrian is in Vietnam on business.





	One Hot Day In Vietnam

In all this miserable fucking heat, the tip of the knife is cold. Eddie is profoundly grateful for that. He whimpers as it lifts and comes down to make a new character, above and beside his tailbone. Adrian has been writing quite carefully for a while now, after "forcing" Eddie from the door of this (not bugged, he _checked_ ) hotel room all the way to the bed at knifepoint. The quotation marks are there because if Eddie had said "checkers", possibly preceded or followed by "you motherfucker!" as it had been the time Adrian had dripped candle wax on him (he had actually liked it a lot, which was the problem), he would have quit immediately. They've done some of this before, because Adrian's not a goddamn idiot and would expect the asskicking he'd get if he sprung this on anyone, but previously they've used dull knives or only cut clothing, so Adrian's nerves and his own fear-rapid pulse so close to being severed had really been almost real. 

Hot, and he had been hard the whole way, but he likes this part better, after the cuffs are on and Adrian is automatically and unconsciously more merciful. Eddie thinks it's some kind of weird chivalry, since tough as he is, tied down on his belly is a pretty defenseless position and they both know it. In more ways than one, for Eddie. It's some combination of how no one can see his face and the noise-muffling capability of a pillow, but he tends to just go to fucking pieces. Like he is now, tears dampening the pillowcase as he fights to keep from rubbing against the mattress. Adrian gently hushes him, stopping to lube two fingers and slide them into him. It hurts to rock on them, the pain radiating from his back to mingle with the sweet ache of his mostly-neglected cock.

"Adrian..." he whines, needy, shameless and almost childlike. "Please, please, please..." he sobs, jerking as Adrian adds a third finger.

"Believe me, I will," Adrian murmurs, cool and reassuring. "There's only a character and a half to go, and then I'll fuck you. Don't worry." He kisses the back of Eddie's neck, making him shudder and whimper, then slides his fingers out. 

Eddie can hear him carefully going over them with antibacterial wipes before going back to work. This turned on, it doesn't hurt at all, and Eddie finds himself moaning quietly with each delicate little slice. He still has no idea what the hell Adrian is writing, suspects it might not even be English, and at this point, really doesn't care. By the end of the last of five words, Adrian is murmuring a soft litany of adoration that stumbles and breaks in a way that makes him sound like he might be crying a little. He says some stupid shit at times like this, but Eddie can't hold it against him. He makes a last little stroke, like some kind of accent mark, and then lubes himself up and slides into Eddie before he can even start to beg. Adrian groans like he's dying, and slams into Eddie so much harder than usual. Eddie groans and rises to his knees as best he can, but Adrian doesn't need the encouragement, letting out these breathy little cries like he's trying to ease up and can't. There are word fragments in there too, but Eddie's in no position to understand them, tightening on Adrian and wailing as he comes. It feels like it goes on forever, like it'll kill him if it doesn't stop, and he whimpers when it does and Adrian's still pounding him. It kinda hurts now, but Adrian's helpless little whimpers and his one shaking fist clutching at Eddie's hair are totally worth it. 

"Oh god, Eddie..." he grinds in so deep it feels like he's gonna come on Eddie's heart, and finally lets go, shuddering and melting weakly onto his back, panting as it subsides.

"Get me out of these fuckin' cuffs and get me a smoke." Is what Eddie finally says. Adrian laughs, and does as ordered. "Don't roll over, I wanna disinfect that."

"Goddammit." He lights up, propped on his elbows over the wet pillow. "What did you write, anyway?"

"I'll show you in a minute."

And he does, with two deftly placed mirrors so Eddie can see the lovely clean cuts. Whatever it is, it's in Vietnamese, which he can't read even when it's not backwards. The letters are beautifully even, all the little accent marks crisp and defined. It almost looks like someone drew on the left side of his back from shoulder blade to tailbone with a red pen.

"So what the hell does it say?"

Adrian smiles, touching the unbroken skin by each word as he translates, "Beloved Property of Adrian Veidt." He kisses Eddie softly, the two of them just breathing together for a bit, while Adrian recovers from scaring himself and Eddie just recovers. After a while he vows revenge, Adrian asks if it can wait for lunch, and the answer, as always, is yes.


End file.
